


Favours for the brave

by devera



Category: Assassin's Creed - All Media Types
Genre: Bottom Eivor (Assassin's Creed), East Anglia arc, Fluff and Smut, M/M, Missing Scene, NSFW, No Spoilers, Not Beta Read, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-01
Updated: 2021-01-01
Packaged: 2021-03-11 01:53:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,599
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28487136
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/devera/pseuds/devera
Summary: Eivor is invested in Oswald becoming King of East Anglia, and because he can do no else, he will make him a good one in what ever way Oswald requires. And one day perhaps the future Queen will even thank him.
Relationships: Oswald/Eivor
Comments: 10
Kudos: 74





	Favours for the brave

**Author's Note:**

> I haven't written much for a very, very long time, but Oswald was so pretty and sweet (omg he drew Valdis a picture! And she liked it) that I thought, man, he's probably pretty nervous about his wedding night, and probably Eivor would offer to help him with that too, right? Well, not the actual wedding night, because Eivor is all about helping people to help themselves.
> 
> Also, I'm sorry. I honestly struggle with tags. I just panic a bit at trying to find the words that apply. I'll raid other fic tags and try and put some more in but you should know there should be nothing triggery here. It's all just fluff and porn.

When Eivor looked for the young King-to-be he found him this time stripped down to a working tunic and mucking out stables. He was moving stiffly as if his body pained him, and Eivor winced a little at the sight. Finnr had said to go easy on the lad and technically Eivor had, but Oswald’s body was not used to such treatment. The fight had been necessary to bridge that divide between what was feared and what was known but watching the lad now Eivor hoped only that it was enough to win the brothers’ favour and get the lad the crown. Once that was done, he would have as many fit, fighting men as he needed.

"Troubled again?" Eivor began by way of greeting, leaning against the stable door to watch Oswald work. "No wonder this town is so pretty, given your many concerns."

Oswald snorted a laugh at that and threw Eivor an even prettier smile. "Well, something good should come of them, don’t you think?" he quipped and threw a fork of hay into the nearest stall, before digging back into the bale. "I’m fine," he added more seriously. "It is more a… personal matter."

"The raid?" Eivor guessed, and Oswald paused and then threw another fork of hay before driving the tines into the ground and turning, his hands on his hips, to look at Eivor a little more fully.

"No," he said after a moment. "That does not concern me. I’m not afraid, but I’ve no illusions about my fighting expertise. You and your men are likely going to do most of the work."

Eivor didn’t deny it, but he didn’t agree with it either for Oswald had shown more mettle in that fight yesterday than Oswald himself seemed to believe he had. He had a good arm and good form; he’d been trained, just never blooded. Eivor had seen it in many a young warrior but something Oswald had that many others did not was _conviction_. He would do all right for himself, if that was the mast to which he tied his sail.

"Then your upcoming betrothal," Eivor decided and for all that Oswald was blooded now, he was still a little too green to hide his surprise.

"Yes! How did you know?"

Eivor shrugged. "They are the only two things that trouble any man," he provided lightly. "Death or love."

Oswald’s face made a complicated expression then.

"It’s not love," he said, but it sounded like there was to be more so Eivor kept his peace. "But perhaps it is… like? Valdis… she is… strong. But sweet, I think. She speaks little but what she has to say is intelligent, considered. Her brothers listen to her, defer to her even. I find that quite remarkable. And I have seen the way she treats the townspeople, Saxon and Dane both. With respect, as if she is genuinely interested in them. And although she doesn’t do it often, her smile makes of her face a thing of unexpected beauty."

"Does it now," Eivor said softly, and refrained from saying it was perhaps love after all. "And yet, what about all this is troubling? It seems you may be very happy, if we can get the brothers to agree to the wedding."

"Yes," Oswald huffed, and then went to the bucket of water beside the door where Eivor was standing to wash his hands. "And that’s the problem. Before, when I thought there was no chance they would accept me, the idea of this marriage was really just that. But after yesterday, well, I feel like I have a chance now, don’t I. Which means that this marriage is really going to happen, and the problem now is that I have not one single clue of what to do when it does."

"When it does?" Eivor echoed, not understanding.

"On the night," Oswald added, and then Eivor did understand, seeing the lad’s cheeks redden.

"On the night," he repeated. "Well, surely that isn’t something to worry about so much as to look forward to?"

But Oswald only reddened further. "One would think so, if one had any experience _at all_."

"You-" Eivor began in surprise and then made himself stop before another word got out ahead of his thoughts and caused a wound greater than any clash of steel might. "I see. Well, we were all of us as innocent as babes once. This is surely not something to muck out stables over."

"I just…" Oswald was now drying his hands quite vigorously with a cloth as he spoke. "I would like her to like me too. I would like for our wedding night to be something that brings us further accord, not drives us apart. The idea that she should… lie beneath me as some kind of… of duty. It is abhorrent to me."

"As it would be to her I’m sure," Eivor ventured. "You are speaking of her pleasure?"

"Well, yes," Oswald said gustily, slapping the cloth down over the bucket.

"That is not something you should be labouring over either," Eivor almost laughed. "Our women do not cleave to this notion that such things are a _duty_. Valdis will know her own mind on it. She will teach you."

"I know," Oswald said gustily. "But if I could just be certain I would not _embarrass_ myself, I would rake a lot less."

Eivor did laugh then, though kindly.

"Then you are speaking of practice," he said. "So practice!"

"What?" Oswald sputtered. "With whom?"

"Anyone will do, surely?"

"Anyone will _not_ do!" Oswald said emphatically.

"Me then."

It was perhaps Oswald’s awkwardness with the subject that put the words in Eivor’s mouth before he could consider them. And once they were out, they could not be taken back. But more interestingly, neither did Oswald seem unduly offended. Instead he was looking doubtfully at Eivor, as if the idea were merely something ludicrous.

"You are not a woman, Eivor, and- and such things are not done."

That wasn’t necessarily a no, Eivor realised, but he didn’t exactly understand the objection.

"You are not to practice?" he asked blankly, unable to think why that would be so.

Oswald’s cheeks were reddening again. "Well, technically no," he said, shuffling his feet once before forcing himself to stillness and looking Eivor in the eye. "Plenty of people do, of course. No, what I mean is, men do not lie with other men."

Eivor frowned. "They do - quite frequently in my experience - and so long as they will still marry and have children, well, there is little wrong with it."

"But…" Oswald began, his eyes going a little rounder. "I have heard… I mean, it is a grave insult, is it not? For a man to take… to- to enjoy the…lesser role. Of the woman."

"Women are not _lesser_ ," Eivor scoffed. "And I would not say such words around Valdis if you wish to keep all five of your limbs." He looked pointedly down Oswald’s body towards one limb specifically.

"Ah," Oswald intoned in sudden, perhaps fearful understanding. "No, of course!"

"But you are correct in some regard," Evior allowed, shrugging, for this was not exactly the first time he had heard such beliefs, neither here nor in his homeland. "There are differing opinions about it. Such things are used to humiliate and declare victory over an enemy in some clans, but in mine that is but a coward’s pretence to strength and honour. What point in abusing the already beaten? And as for insults, why those are merely sport to be answered with better insults or in a good bare-knuckle fight."

"Oh, as the other night!" Oswald said, and Eivor smiled.

"Same principle," he said. "If the offense is truly harmful – say the insult is not to my face, cannot be answered directly, or has caused some harm to another or to trade or property – the matter can be taken to the Jarl for determination. Otherwise who I bring to my bed is no one’s business but my own." Eivor had not thought it was something he needed to explain, but these English and their god were strange in some things.

"The Church would have us all abstain," Oswald sighed a little mournfully. "Pleasure in the marital bed is as much a sin as pleasure outside of marriage itself."

A strange concept, this sin, Eivor thought. It seemed to change constantly and prohibit all that made life enjoyable, and he was yet to meet someone in this land whose self-denial in any sense had helped them achieve this godliness of which they all seemed to speak. In his opinion, it was best to leave being a god up to the gods and settle for earning a place in their Feast Hall, life being far simpler that way.

"That does not make much sense to me," he admitted. "But it does explain your concerns about your own marital bed. Let me allay some of them then: I do not think you will keep Valdis long if you marry her in the manner your God claims you must."

"And I do not want to," Oswald sighed. "Marry her in that manner, I mean. I suppose that makes me not a very good Christian."

"But at least a long and happily married one," Eivor said cheerfully. "And so, if you need practice, I offer myself. If your objection is only that you do not find me desirous I will not be insulted; just say it."

"No!" Oswald said with flattering haste, and then seemed to realise this and blushed again. "No, I mean, I… do. Like you, I mean, but…"

"I understand," Eivor said, only just managing not to sigh out his disappointment, for he liked Oswald too. Admired him. Such courage as the lad had shown yesterday was something his people were raised to from birth, and so it was almost as effortless as breathing. To someone like Oswald, it would have been like fording the wildest river and yet he had faced it regardless and found himself upon the farther shore. Eivor had not seen that kind of courage in a long time and it was easy to be attracted to it.

"But here is hardly appropriate for such lessons," Oswald continued, then nodded to himself as if he had reached a decision. "Come to my rooms after supper then."

Eivor had hardly parsed that statement as a command and Oswald had turned, snatched up his overtunic from beside the bucket and strode past Eivor with a speed that would have been more seemly yesterday during their bout but that left Eivor staring after him in something like surprise.

And wondering where it was he could wash and dress in preparation for the extra lesson he was apparently about to be giving after all.

+++

No one seemed to find it something to remark upon that Eivor had come to supper in his lightest clothes, free of his armor and most of his weapons, scrubbed clean in a small, calm but chilling portion of river shallows a little upstream until he was near pink. Finnr sitting beside him hardly seemed to notice. He laughed and drank and only once looked at him oddly when he politely refused another mug of ale.

"S’matter?" he said, all slurring suspicion. "You sick? Take a wound in that fight against His Lordship-to-be?" And then he crowed with laughter. Eivor smiled patiently and passed him another tankard.

The subject of Finnr’s merriment did not even look over but was instead engaged in a fairly spirited debate with a minor lord who had recently had more than he could stand of Rued and his men and had come to complain of it. They were talking strategy, Eivor thought, and it appeared Oswald was winning. Eivor watched him for a while - the way he held himself, how he spoke, his graceful gestures, for a while longer his mouth and his hands - and felt warmth settle in his gut and lower about what the night would bring.

And then he thought of it no longer, laughing and drinking and talking with the other villagers around his table, entertaining with light-hearted stories and talk of his settlement, until people began to seek their beds, some wandering into the corners of the hall where alcoves held pallets and screens for some measure of privacy, others off outside to seek their own shelters. Eivor sipped at the last of his ale, which he had been nursing for some time, and smirked to see Finrr asleep with his head upon his arms on the table next to him.

"Come, old man," Eivor said finally, gently, shaking him lightly and then when he roused hoisting the man to his feet. "Don’t make me carry you."

He did, a little, but he did not mind. Finnr mumbled something when he lowered him to a spare pallet, and then promptly rolled over and began snoring again. Eivor huffed, abandoning any ideas he’d had to perhaps divest the man of his boots and belt. Finnr had probably slept in worse, and Eivor was merely buying time.

When he returned to the main hall only a few people remained, none of them Oswald. It was hardly any difficulty for Eivor to linger at a table near the Ealdorman's rooms at the end of the hall until no eyes were upon him before moving quietly through the shadows to Oswald's door.

He didn't expect it to be locked, although if it had he would have taken that to mean Oswald's mood had changed, but it opened easily into the sitting area. A fire was banked in the hearth and a few candles had been lit so that he could see his way through the room and into Oswald's bedroom proper, and when he lifted the drapes and entered, Oswald was waiting. He wasn't pacing, but he didn't look as if he were anticipating an enjoyable evening. Eivor was not offended.

"Ah, there- There you are," Oswald said, and did not say he had been concerned Eivor would not come. "Did you see Finnr to his bed then?"

Eivor hadn't thought he'd noticed. "I did. He will likely not remember how he got there though."

"I sometimes think this is all too much for him," Oswald agreed, and Eivor did not laugh at the idea that perhaps it was Finnr who was in over his head rather than Oswald himself, for Oswald had already shown he was made of stronger stuff than expected.

"He is fine," Eivor dismissed easily. "A man like him finds one reason or another to enjoy his mead, but when he is needed, he is there."

"Yes," Oswald said thoughtfully. "That is true. Much like yourself, really."

Eivor did laugh then. "If you are referring to now, you should be aware I intend to enjoy myself too," he reminded.

Oswald looked a little affronted. "Well, of course! That's the lesson to be learned, isn't it? How to do it so _you_ enjoy it? How should we begin?"

"We should begin," he said, "as any two people would - by coming together."

"Ah, of course," Oswald said, and promptly he was in Eivor's space. He was not quite of a height, which was a refreshing change from the men Eivor normally turned his eye upon, but he was solidly built, a fact Eivor had learned during their bout yesterday. "Should I…" he began. "Should I pretend you are Valdis?"

Eivor covered another laugh with a breath instead. "I would rather you didn't, unless you would like me to as well?"

He was teasing, but Oswald looked at him like he was considering it.

"No, it would defeat the purpose to pretend you are another."

"Wise words and a good start," Eivor agreed. "The most important thing is to know that when pursuing pleasure, each person is a discovery, a lesson you desire to learn, a tale you want to share. And like all good lessons, it is easiest when you let the other person teach you by doing. For instance, touch me however you think you would like to and then you shall know something about me you did not know before. Start with care, as if you are… testing unknown waters."

"All right," Oswald said, a little breathily, and raised his hand to Eivor's face.

He did not start with his mouth, but the sweep of his brow, a second's curiosity until he realised Oswald's soft fingertips were tracing the lines of his tattoo.

"You all seem to be tattooed everywhere," Oswald mused. It was almost a question. "They are quite beautiful, I think."

"Are you curious?" Eivor said, smiling. "Then you should go hunting and see if it's true."

Oswald's gaze jumped to his and he let out a little laugh, part surprise and delight.

"All right then," he said, and began divesting Eivor of his clothes. Eivor stood and let him, watching with hooded eyes and feeling the brush of his hands on skin newly exposed, until he was bare-chested and Oswald's palm was pressed against the curve of his ribcage. His thumb slowly, repeatedly swept the line of the tattoo with a kind of focussed fascination that stirred Eivor's cock to more than half hard.

"They all mean something, don't they," Oswald breathed, head bowed to stare down the plane of Eivor's body.

"Yes," Eivor said, clasping his hand over Oswald's. "This one is _hjarta._ It means heart, or the seat of emotion. I was in love, in my youth. Or thought I was. I got it to remind me that congress, no matter how pleasurable, is not love."

"How does it do that?"

Eivor smirked. "By going lower."

"Oh!" Oswald breathed, and then blushed, but it did not stop him from looking down. "I _was_ wondering."

"Would you like to see?"

Oswald shook his head a little. "Not just yet. Do Danes kiss?"

"I am Norse," he said mildly. "But I imagine they do."

Oswald laughed, as Eivor had meant him to. "Oh, I mean do _you_ kiss?"

"I do," Eivor said a little roughly, for he enjoyed kissing a great deal.

"And how-" Oswald began, but Eivor shifted into him and brought a hand up to slide his fingers along his jaw and bent down a little and murmured, "Like this."

It was gentle at first, careful as he had advised, until Oswald let a shuddering breath into his mouth and then abruptly clutched him closer and pressed against him harder. Eivor accepted the embrace with enthusiasm, moving Oswald to a better angle and deepening the exchange until he could feel Oswald's cock hard against his hip.

"Slow," he said on a breath. "Slow, Oswald." He drew back enough to take in Oswald's dazed, hungry countenance and then reconsidered. "No, I have a better idea. Tunic off."

Oswald only seemed to understand when Eivor's own hands moved to divest him of his belt and tunic and helped make short work of his under-tunic until he was standing also bare chested. His bruises from the holmgang yesterday were turning yellow to blue and likely were still tender but Oswald hardly seemed to notice.

"I have enjoyed your ideas thus far," he agreed breathlessly. "What do you propo-Oh!"

Eivor promised himself he would enjoy the tousled, shocked look of Oswald later. Right now, he preferred to be on his knees, his hands on the tie of Oswald's braies working quickly to expose his cock.

"I- _Oh_ ," Oswald gasped as Eivor's hand closed over the head, then used the moisture there to slick the ring of his thumb and finger and gave him a good stroke down to the root. It was a good cock, Eivor thought, thick and not too long, turgid with need.

"A pleasant surprise," Eivor remarked, mostly to himself, as Oswald shuddered under his hand. "You can grip my hair if you need to," he added, and then put his mouth where his hand had been.

Oswald made a loud, wordless sound and his hands came immediately down upon Eivor's head as Eivor sucked, hard and long. He would savour this later, if he could, but right now Oswald needed the low banked fire of desire not the wild flames of arousal. No usefulness in embracing upon Oswald's bed if Oswald was going to fly off like an arrow slipped prematurely from the draw.

It did not take long, and likely would not have even if Eivor was unpractised in the act. In the moment of his release Oswald did tighten his grip, and the strength in his worker's hands made Eivor groan his own desire even as he swallowed, nose buried in the nest of hair at Oswald's groin until Oswald was finished and standing on shaking legs over him.

"I- Christ in His glory," Oswald gasped as Eivor dragged himself away and stood.

"Not something everyone likes to do," Eivor said only a little huskily. Oswald had not been overly aggressive about it, nor taken long, so Eivor's voice was not now paying much of a price. "Valdis may or may not. Never expect, and certainly not if you do not intend to return the gift at some point, unless they do not like it."

"I- No. No, of course," Oswald stammered. "But you- I do not know if I can…"

Eivor laughed kindly and kissed Oswald closed mouthed on his lips.

"I do not need it," he said. "Though I like it as most men do. I only meant to take the fire from your blood, but this lesson is not through unless you have had enough."

"No. There is-? No, I would happily learn more."

Eivor laughed again. "Then come."

"A woman is different down there," Oswald remarked as they moved to the bed, and as Eivor began to remove his breeches so did Oswald. "How is it done then?"

"Hmmm, gently to start," Eivor said as he lay himself down naked on the bed and opened his arms for Oswald to fill them. "With kisses and licks in the valley of their flesh. With your fingers, slow and easy, parting their folds, sliding, sinking in." He closed his arms around Oswald's surprisingly broad shoulders and shifted until their bodies folded together, legs and hips and chests. "Find a rhythm. Let them guide you. When they feel desire, most become wet and soft. There is a little nub of flesh at the front, in that valley, that can bring them much pleasure but you should have the spirit of an explorer and learn what they like."

"I see," Oswald said throatily, and as if he were putting into practice a little of Eivor's advice, leant down to kiss him softly, slowly. Eivor lay still and allowed that too, moving only to cling to the kisses with his own mouth, to taste and coax with his tongue until Oswald was exploring him as if a diligent student at his studies.

"Teeth," Eivor breathed – perhaps even gasped a little – as Oswald moved from his mouth to scrape his teeth against the curve of Eivor's jaw, then began kissing the hollows beneath it, his ear, his throat, the dip of his collar bone. "Are fine in gentle application, but no harder unless you are asked."

"Like this?" Oswald asked lowly and his teeth scraped again against the slope of Eivor's breast. His other hand was as if stuck to Evior's flesh, below his belly button where the hair grew in a tapering line towards the thatch at the root of his cock. "And do women enjoy a mouth upon their teat?"

Without waiting to be told, his head dipped and his lips closed around the nub of flesh under discussion, once and then again, then his tongue followed. Eivor shivered and tried not to press into it as much as he desired to.

"Oh, you like that." Oswald's voice was low with obvious pleasure at the discovery, and then his hand was moving, fingers circling then pinching gently at one as his mouth worked at the other and Eivor groaned and breathed and tried to form words to answer his question.

"Some- Some do, and some do not," he managed, rolling towards Oswald a little to shift him so he raised his head and then Eivor could kiss him again. "If they do not seem… enthusiastic about it, move on."

Despite Eivor's own enthusiasm, Oswald's hand did indeed move on, pinching and then pressing, catching the bumps of his ribs, the cut of his hip and then further, finally, fingers sliding down Eivor's cock to gently, carefully stretch around his balls. Eivor shuddered and Oswald kissed him again.

"This I know how to handle," he said, smiling, as he drew back. "Granted, the angle is a little strange and you are longer, but no different in basic shape and, I assume, feeling."

"No different in feeling," Eivor agreed breathlessly, arching into the surge of desire as Oswald's hand moved upon him slowly, not enough to bring him to his completion but if that was what Oswald desired, to watch him writhe, then writhe he would.

"Look at you," Oswald said reverently. "You are lovely."

Eivor moaned at a particularly dexterous twist of Oswald's hand and then laughed a little.

"I am scarred and battle-wrought and you think it lovely? You might be marrying the wrong sibling."

Oswald dropped his head to Eivor's shoulder. "There's a mental picture I could have done without," he chuckled.

"I don't know," Eivor teased. "Broder has fire and the lick of such flames can be enjoyable under the right accord. Then again, Brothir would make a good advisor. Perhaps you should marry all of them."

"Quiet your words," Oswald begged, or commanded, but laughing as well, and turned to kiss Eivor again. "If you are talking about others right now then I haven’t yet learned enough."

"You are doing admirably well," Eivor assured. "And talk of the brothers does not seem to have affected you besides." He reached himself for Oswald's cock, which had become hard again at some point, and stroked, and then grinned as Oswald gasped and shuddered and the rhythm of his hand upon Eivror's cock faltered. "But you are right, there is more to know. Do you have oil or sap from the aloe plant or the like here?"

Oswald blinked at him. "I- There is- Over upon the desk. It's for my hands after I have been working. But how…"

Eivor gave the lad a gentle shove and then rolled out of bed. His balls ached and his cock throbbed and there was a heat in his loins at the surety of what he was about to enjoy, and how much Oswald would enjoy it also.

"This will do," he decided, after inspecting the jar Oswald had indicated. He came back and crawled upon the bed, pushing Oswald over on his back as he did so he might slide a leg over his thighs and settle himself astride.

"What are you…" Oswald began. "Are you going to…"

"Unless you have objection," Eivor said, although he was fairly certain there were none. "Valdis may ride you without preparation, if she is aroused and pliant enough, but a man is different."

"I would say," Oswald agreed, watching with wide eyes as Eivor scooped out some stuff from the jar and put it aside so he could use his free hand to brace himself over Oswald while he worked his slickened fingers into himself. "Are you actually…? Is that not… unclean?"

"I would not be putting my mouth on you after until you have washed," Eivor allowed, "but there are preparations that can be made and I have made them. Not something you need to-" He stopped and pressed his fingers in, felt the heat in his loins burst into a fire and shuddered. "Need to learn."

That was enough, and he wanted the burn, liked it just a little, to feel the striving and then the surrender. He would not do so, surrender in any way in any other part of his life, but with men who turned his head and even on occasion some remarkably adventurous women, he liked it.

"This will not be quite the same," he said as he took hold of Oswald's cock again and shifted to put it against him where he was slick and ready. "But you must be gentle until you know each other's bodies well. Women are amazingly…accommodating…"

He stopped to lower himself down, shifting his hips and relaxing in the way that he found best made it work. Beneath him, Oswald made a sound which was unintelligible, his mouth open and his eyes bright upon Eivor, watching as Eivor took him, his hands clenching the bed clothes beneath him as if to anchor himself.

What had he been saying? Oswald felt enormous inside him, hot like a newly forged iron. Eivor shifted a little again, rising up and then easing back down and Oswald shuddered and clamped his hands onto Eivor's waist.

"Christ," he gasped. "Mother of God."

Eivor laughed and moved again, and on the next roll of his hips managed to get Oswald in exactly the right place.

"Such… words," he half gasped, half laughed, settling into a slow rhythm that sent waves of hot, trembling pleasure through his loins. "Can't… imagine… your god… would approve."

"What?" Oswald said blearily, gazing up at him as if he hung moon and stars and birthed all light in the world. "Eivor. You- That-"

"Mmm, feels good," Evior moaned in agreement. "But our lesson."

"Your lessons will kill me," Oswald gasped again.

"One- _Fuck_. One last one," Eivor insisted, himself quickly losing the will to do anything other than ride Oswald's cock hard and fast until they both reached a shuddering finish. "Learn how to do two things at once," he groaned, and took one of Oswald's hands and put it on his cock.

Oswald – gloriously fast learner that he was – took the hint and soon Eivor _was_ riding him hard, rolling back onto Oswald's thrusts and forward into the downstroke of his hand, pleasure balancing him on a precipice he only needed the smallest of pushes to tumble from.

When Oswald groaned out another curse and in an impressive display of core strength sat up and dragged Eivor against him with his free hand so that they were pressed belly to belly, chest to chest, his grip around Eivor's cock clenching and trapped between them, that was good, magnificent, but not the push he needed. No, that came with the desperate, consuming way he leaned up and sought Eivor's mouth. Eivor, panting out his breath, focused as he was on keeping Oswald's cock _right there,_ could only open for him and take it, as he was _already_ taking it, because he was doing almost none of the work now. Oswald was thrusting up into him, holding him close, down, and he was strong, stronger than he looked, could tip him onto his back easily, spread Eivor's legs, plough him even _harder_ …

Suddenly, unexpectedly, Eivor tipped from that dizzying height, pleasure plummeting through him, the wild swell of its waves rising to meet him and engulf him, taking all sense, all strength and breath, until he found himself fallen dazed and limp upon the shores of Oswald's shuddering frame and together they fell back to the bed.

They lay like that for some long, panting moments, entwined. The sweat on Eivor's skin slid in trails smeared by the lazy, distracted sweep of Oswald's quite marvelous hands. Their touch made Eivor sigh, and stay, and beneath him Oswald shivered and perhaps unconsciously squeezed Eivor closer.

"God in His Heaven," he said finally, gustily.

Eivor laughed in turn. "I think, Oswald," he said muzzily, turning his face against Oswald's shoulder and kissing him there. "You do not need to worry about your wedding night after all."

Oswald laughed almost as if it were surprised out of him.

"I- Well, good. Good then. I'm glad," he managed. "I had a fine tutor. Very amazingly fine."

"Flatterer," Eivor snickered and rolled off Oswald to flop onto his back next to him. "If you lay such words upon Valdis and she doesn't put her boot in your arse, I expect you to name at least one of your fifteen children after me."

"Now who's flattering whom?" Oswald prodded. "Fifteen? I'll be lucky to make it to the first, the way things have been going."

"You'll make it," Eivor vowed, then grinned. "After all, the work I've invested, it's been very _hard."_

Oswald snickered as well.

"So then I'll try not to be an ungrateful lard."

Eivor laughed at that. "Not bad, not bad. You could still use some work though."

"I could," Oswald agreed and rolled onto his side to prop himself up over Eivor, his hand coming to rest upon his far hip, his body curved in a question it was a little difficult to misunderstand.

"Again?" Eivor asked with some surprise.

"I'm sure I missed something," Oswald supplied conspiratorially. "And I wouldn't want to leave your company with gaps in my knowledge."

Eivor sighed a put-upon sigh and rolled eagerly to meet Oswald's body.

"The sacrifices I make for my clan," he said, trying not to grin and for which he received a sound slap to his arse that might have begun a new lesson which Oswald assured him later would _not_ be applied in the context of Valdis. Unless she asked.


End file.
